Someone To Die For
by seriousish
Summary: Davis thought Chloe’s amnesia was cured. But there’s one thing she still can’t remember. AU for 8x10 Bride. Davis doesn’t know he’s Doomsday, Chloe doesn’t remember Clark is Kryptonian, and Jimmy is engaged to marry her.
1. Chapter 1

Davis threw fresh clothes on, Chloe's words gathering power in his head like a growing storm. If anyone else had called for help at 3 AM, he would've had serious words to go along with any help he gave. But Chloe had sounded so scared, so… lost. She could've told him she was in Peru, it would've just meant he'd be buying a plane ticket.

By the time he got down to the stope, the cab he'd called still hadn't arrived. He forced himself to sit and called Chloe. He imagined her looking at the phone, only picking up when she saw it was him. Wishful thinking. "Hey, Chloe, it's me. I'm on my way, don't go anywhere."

"I'm not in any danger." He could hear the fragile smile at his concern in her voice. "I just don't want to be alone right now. Which is the kind of stupid cliché I'd laugh at, only it's happening to me. You want some coffee, when you get here?"

"I'd love coffee." A Yellowcab pulled up. "My ride's here. See you in a few, okay?"

"Yeah, okay."

* * *

Somewhere in Metropolis, Jimmy Olsen was sleeping alone in a bed big enough for two. At the Isis Foundation, Chloe was touching up her make-up. She felt ridiculously disappointed in herself. She should've been a tough-nosed reporter on her way to her first Pulitzer by now, the girl in a Howard Hawks movie. But Jimmy was no Cary Grant.

Floors below, his head swarming with worried and dark thoughts, Davis got out of a taxi cab. He rode up in the elevator pacing, pressing against the walls and pushing back off. He felt a restless energy in him, the same energy he had to choke down when he treated a housewife who 'fell down some stairs'. It was a hindrance then, but now it felt eminently suitable. Whatever had hurt Chloe, he felt like he could rip it apart with his bare hands.

The doors parted and he saw Chloe, breathtaking as always in a purple dress, waiting for him with a mug of steaming coffee. He was so happy to see she was alright that it took him a moment to think how weird it was to see her so… domesticated.

"Hey, Davis, sorry to worry you. Folger's an okay apology?"

"No apology needed, but I'll take the coffee just so I don't fall asleep on my feet like a horse… with two legs…" He let the metaphor trail off.

"You need this," Chloe said, handing over the coffee.

He gulped it down gratefully, then rubbed the last of the sleep out of his eyes. "So, what seems to be the problem, ma'am?" he said in his Dudley Do-Rightest voice.

She didn't crack an eyelash, much less a smile. She just led him deeper into the Foundation, into a secret room dominated by a prop from some big-budget hacker movie. But Davis's gaze slid right off the computer to the walls, which were covered in photographs, sketches, notepad writings, Post-It notes, and newspaper clippings.

"Chloe, what is all this?"

"The walls of weirdness… it's my life, Davis. All the parts I can't remember."

He shook his head, fingers grinding into his palm. "No, you were cured, you got your memory back…"

"Not all of it. Something's missing. A secret." Like a sleep-walker, she ran a hand down the colored thread linking two mosaics. "Hidden between the lines."

"Splinter in the mind's eye," he breathed.

"Yes. That's it exactly."

"I shouldn't be here. This is private…"

"It's alright, I trust you." She tapped a Polaroid tacked to the wall. "See?"

It was a photo of him. He couldn't resist looking. It was captioned 'Davis Bloom – he'll help you, no matter what'.

"That's all? I could've planted that there to trick you."

"You wouldn't do that. I can tell just by looking at you. You're a good person."

"And Jimmy?"

Davis hated for himself for the way her face fell. "He's a good friend. Maybe he never should've been anything more." Chloe picked a Polaroid from the wall that told her she loved Jimmy, a message repeated on the walls so many times it was like graffiti. "I remember writing this. I don't remember feeling it. That's what I need back. I need my life to make sense again."

"Okay, so it's like a puzzle with a left-over piece. Find the hole. Who isn't mentioned here that should be?"

"No one. I've looked. Everyone's here, everyone…"

Davis's eyes darted around like those of a hawk looking for a field mouse. Someone knew something. Someone had stolen from Chloe, molested her. He didn't know how long he stood there, hand slowly tracking to the right, swimming through names and faces… until he stalked to the left wall and ripped out Clark's photo.

_He's your best friend._

"This isn't your handwriting."

* * *

Chloe wasn't ready to believe it. The thought moistened her eyes all over again. Davis wondered how long she'd lived with this before calling him. It must've made her life a living hell.

He assured her, lied to her. Held her close and rubbed her back and told her someone must've done this without Clark's knowledge, a third party, a shooter on the grassy knoll. But he didn't trust Clark. A third party ran the risk of Clark telling her the secret all over again. Only Clark could be sure.

"Have you told Clark about your amnesia?"

"Yes. He told me not to worry about it…" Chloe buried her face in his chest, shaking her head like a broken clock trying to tick.

Davis felt the restless energy, stronger than ever, and he assuaged it to be patient. Written under the photograph was Clark's address.

* * *

Davis paced for five minutes in front of Clark's door, blocked, uncertain how to translate this near-infinite energy into action. He was a doctor, for God's sake! How could he even be considering this? And yet… how could he do nothing? How could anyone do nothing?

He kicked the door down. It was a start.

Davis looked around the cramped apartment. What was he supposed to do, now that he was playing avenger? Look for clues? Spray-paint his logo on the wall?

"What are you doing here?" Clark asked, somehow behind him.

Interrogation.

"Chloe sent me. She wants to remind you that you're her friend." Davis was shocked at how fast he was, grabbing Clark's throat, slamming him against the wall. "_Remember?_"

Clark looked at the arms holding him off the floor with wild shock. "You're hurting me!"

"I haven't even gotten started. What'd you do to Chloe?" he demanded.

"You leave her alone!"

"_Me_ leave her alone?"

"She's happy now!"

"Now?" The energy was rising up in him so fast that Davis was shaking, his vision blurring. "It _was_ you."

"I won't explain myself to someone who has no idea what Chloe's been through."

"You're right. I only know what you put her through, you son of a bitch!" With a crescendoing scream, his body came alive. The wall… disappeared behind Clark, swallowing him up with a chaser of falling rubble. Davis backed away, looking at his hands in horror. In awe. He'd just shoved a man through a brick wall. "What the hell am I?"

Then he saw Clark stand up, dislodging a pile of broken masonry.

"What the hell are you?" Realization trickled coldly down Davis's spine. "This is what you made Chloe forget? What you are?"

"It was for her own good."

"Does that help you sleep at night?" Davis's anger was so great it _hurt_, like a knife was sliding into his stomach again. He looked down at his clenched fists to see his knuckles weren't white, they were gray.

He forced his hands open, but it didn't stop jagged spurs from tearing through his knuckles. "It was me," he realized, with the same nauseating certainty that came with being about to vomit. "All along, it was me. I'm the killer."

He remembered the crucifix on his rear-view mirror and how it had hung from an old woman's neck. He remembered how it felt to tear through flesh and shred bone and God help him, it felt good. "All those people." He looked at Clark and _saw_ so many ways to hurt him, not as many as a normal person, but so many ways, and they were all _glorious_. "You have to go, now!"

"I'm not going anywhere!" Clark picked Davis up with one arm and normally Davis would be impressed, but now part of him was horrified to realize and another, much _larger part_ was _elated_ to know _it wouldn't be enough_. "You're going to stay away from Chloe. She loves Jimmy, understand? She belongs with him!"

"I can't control it! Clark..." Incisors protruded from his jaws. "**Kal-El.**" He grabbed the arm holding him and broke it in three places.

* * *

Chloe couldn't sleep. It was like a battle was raging inside herself. Part of her was insisting that Clark could not have hurt her, he was her friend, he loved her. And another part of her was whispering that he didn't love her, she was just a tool he used, and he was self-righteous enough to play with her life as he saw fit. Clark was her _bedrock_ and doubting him made her entire life feel like a lie. She rolled over to look at Jimmy, her _fiancé_, and all she felt was numb.

Then she heard the first explosion. Chloe sat bolt-upright. A wave of concern for Clark went through her, then grew to encompass Davis. And then something just cracked, like a wall with too much pressure put on it. She was worried about Clark because he would be going to the disaster. He was the Red-Blue Blue. She was his confidante, his partner, the Watchtower. He was her best friend.

And then he had taken it all from her.

* * *

First minute and Clark's face was already an unrecognizable mess, covered in blood and swelling. The monster that had erupted from Davis showed him no mercy. It shrugged off his mightiest blows and kept _hurting_ him and all Clark could think was how impossible this was. He had a destiny! He was the red and blue blur!

He had to get this thing away from people, had to put it _down_. He charged, hit the beast's midsection, felt a queasy moment of traction before its feet were ripped away from the floor. Then they hit the wall.

Bricks flew and glass shattered as they fell, Clark punching with his good arm until they hit the ground, the beast making a noise for the first time. A deep groan. It tried to sit up, but Clark grabbed it by the head and bashed it against first one side of the alley, then the other. He felt blood getting between his fingers. Then the thing punched him in the gut and he felt something weirdly like a pang of hunger as claws ripped him open.

Clark stumbled back and the beast hunted.

They fought for what seemed like hours and still Clark couldn't understand how this was happening to him. This was the sort of thing that happened to people like Lex! What had he ever done to deserve it?

Then Clark felt an overwhelming pressure—fingers—on his leg and another set of claws cutting into his chest. He was lifted up, afraid of heights; then brought low with a sound he would've recognized as his spine cracking if thinking hadn't gone away a moment later.

* * *

The basketball court of the Metropolis Manglers was covered in bodies evacuated from the war zone. Some had been pulled out of rubble stacked meters high. Others had shrapnel sticking out of them, waiting for one of the overextended medics to stretch to them.

Chloe wandered through, feeling like she was lost in a maze of blood. The squeaky smooth floor now was gouted with blood, partially dried and ripping horribly with every step. Behind her, Jimmy's weight made the boards groan.

"Look for Clark." Chloe nodded to herself spastically. That was the plan. "We have to find Clark."

"What makes you think he's even here?"

"Because if he wasn't, this wouldn't have huah… happened." Chloe realized the lump in her throat came with the tears running uneventfully down her cheeks. That was the worst part, how quiet he was. Maybe there was enough morphine for everyone. The loudest noise came from the squeak and rattle of the medical personnel rushing around. Chloe felt horrible relief when a child started crying. At least it was life. She heard a camera's blasphemous click and realized with a sick drop that it was coming from beside her.

She followed Jimmy's telescope lens to a body seven rows down (_rows_). It was a woman so bloody Chloe couldn't tell what color her dress had once been. A child with the same straw-colored hair was bent over the corpse, drying her own tears on the dress, in the process smearing her face with her mother's blood.

Jimmy's camera whirred again. Chloe ripped it out of his hands. "You heartless bastard!"

Jimmy's eyes darted to his camera, broken on the floor. "Chloe…" His lips moved for a few seconds before words came out. "It's news."

"You think being a journalist means you can do whatever you want!? What about her? She has a right to… her grief…" Chloe forced the tears from her face with the heel of her hand. "I'm sorry, it's Clark, he… I have to find him. He's still my friend… I think."

And she realized, with the same kind of seismic shift that came with waking from a dream, that Davis must have gone to see Clark. He could be one of the bodies. She could be that crying child. Fresh tears flooded her eyes.

Jimmy moved to comfort her, arms spread wide. She shoved him away. "Get away from me. You're still an asshole." She pulled the ring off her finger and dropped it in a puddle of blood. Left Jimmy on his hands and knees groping for it. Probably needed it to buy a new camera.

"Chloe! Oh, God, Chloe!" It was Lois. Chloe felt a little of the weight shift off her heart. She made her way to her cousin.

"Lois, are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm—not hurt."

The words came out of Lois like a pot boiling over. "I saw it! Them! The Red-Blue Blur and this _thing_, this monster, was fighting him… And anyone that got in the way…" Lois pressed her hands against her head like she was trying to get the memories to stay in. "They have me handing out Aspirin. That's all they can do. _Aspirin_…"

"Lois, have you seen Clark?"

Lois's body nearly doubled over from the force of her sobs. Chloe grabbed her and held her until the steel returned to Lois's spine. It didn't take long.

"Over here," Lois said flatly.

They walked over lines of bodies, some seizuring, some all too still. Clark she only recognized from the jacket lying in tatters around him. Lois bent down and tried to get him to take some pills.

"Stand back," Chloe said. Her voice was so flat it might've been melted down, spread out over the floor like a pool of blood.

"That's right! Your power! You can—" The excitement drained from Lois's voice. As she took in Clark, Chloe, everyone else. "You chose." It was not an accusation. Not really.

"The choice I always make." She kissed him and for a moment, the survivors of the Battle of Metropolis saw an angel glow. For many of them, it would be the last thing they ever saw.

Clark jolted upright. "Lana!"

"'Fraid not." Chloe wiped the blood off her lips. "What was it, Clark? I need to know before I send the League."

"The league of what?"

"I remember, Clark. For the next five minutes we'll pretend I forgive you. What did this?"

"Not what. Who." Clark's eyes narrowed. "It was Davis."

Chloe felt the last pillar of her world drop away. She wished the amnesia could come back and take her mind away. She wished she could join her mother in blissful sleep. Because she knew he wasn't lying.

Lois sat, Clark's head in her lap, watching as Chloe stood up as mechanically as Brainiac had ever made her. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Everything's going to be just fine. Because I'm going to kill him."

Clark lurched up, then crumpled up in pain. "You can't!"

"Stay down, Clark. I didn't heal you that well."


	2. Chapter 2

Chloe found him on the roof of the Metropolis General. Davis was sitting on the parapet, his back to her. "I'd jump if I thought it would do any good. You saw the people on the way up?"

Chloe had. The basketball court was nothing compared to it. She reached into her purse, felt cold steel.

"How'd you find me?" Davis asked, dully curious.

"You left your cell phone on. That's all I need." Chloe squeezed the gun until she thought it would crack. No such luck. "I came here to kill you."

"Please…" He turned around. "Please do."

Chloe let go of the gun, putting her hand to her mouth. His body was… opened. Long gashes tore across it, feeding rivers of blood. What little of his skin wasn't covered in blood was deathly pale. And veins hung out of the ruptured skin, dripping blood, dangling with tendons and nerves.

He took a step toward her, reaching out with arms split from wrist to elbow. "I cut every artery I could find, from ulnar to carotid. There are five liters of blood in the human body and mine's all over the roof. My tendons are cut, but I can still move. I can't die. What kind of monster am I that even death won't have me?"

Chloe forced her hands down, around her purse. "You didn't know."

"I suspected. I thought… I was being punished. I thought if I had faith—" Blood bubbled out of his throat with each word, disjointing his sentences. "Can you kill me? Please, say you can."

Blood spurted out of his wrist, then the arm closed up, the only evidence a scar of clean skin.

Chloe dropped her purse. "I can't."

"Find a way. You're smart, can't you—I'm begging."

"No, _I_ can't. You're the only thing that still makes sense. The only thing that's mine."

His other arm knitted itself together. "**It was me!**" he roared. "Me…" He wrapped into a fetal position. "I became a paramedic to save people. And now I find out the best way I could've done that was to put a bullet in my own goddamn head." Fresh blood trickled out of his split carotid.

"Don't say that." Chloe pressed the heel of her hand against the gushing side of his neck until it closed up. "Look, I know what it's like to—"

"I'm a killer. A freak. A rabid fucking dog. You have no idea what that's like."

Chloe grabbed the sides of his head and forced him to look up at her. "You want to know how I lost my memory? An AI took over my mind. It made me do things! I hurt my friends! I killed someone! So I know _exactly_ what it's like to feel like you've been twisted into something ugly, always wanting to know why you weren't strong enough to stop it, wondering how much of it was you and how much was the monster, wondering if you're the monster. Wondering if anything you can do will make up for who you were or if you should just end it. I've been there. But I'm still here." She let go of him. He kept looking at her. "With you."

"Get away from her, Davis."

Chloe turned, a hot flush of guilt hitting her.

Clark's face was a roadmap of the fight. Rimmed with small cuts and one eye charcoal-black, it seemed to Davis like an accusation that had followed him all the way up from the city streets.

"Chloe, it's him!" Davis doubled over, a sudden shooting pain…

"No, it's alright, it's…" Chloe stepped between them. "Clark, he can't control it."

"Do you really think that matters anymore? All the more reason to—"

"To what? Kill him?"

"Your idea. You were right. You're always right. Step away from him. Please."

"He's right, Chloe." Davis shut his blazing red eyes. "You need to be running."

"I'm not going anywhere!"

"It's him, it's him, Chloe." Davis struggled to speak with the jagged teeth pushing their way into his mouth. "It's Kal-El. I'm meant to kill him. I was born to kill him."

"You're not a monster! You're more than that, you're…"

Davis was beyond hearing her. The beast stepped over Chloe, locked onto Clark like a bloodhound with a scent. They met. Flew off the roof like a missile launched into the heart of Metropolis.

* * *

They hit the street, cracking pavement, and the fight began in earnest. Davis felt the beast's instincts like a dream's logic. Of course he should hit Clark. He should keep hitting Clark. He should hit Clark until there was nothing left to hit. And even though a part of him kept thinking this was wrong, he should stop, he couldn't keep that train of thought going. He had to keep fighting. It was the only thing that made sense.

* * *

If anything, anyone got in the way, he simply knocked them aside, the scent of their spilled blood driving him onward. He flung cars at Clark, not caring where they landed. He cracked buildings with Clark. It seemed to distract him.

* * *

Everything was hate, everything was rage, everything was blood. Davis couldn't understand how he had ever been anything but the beast. How could he, the other him, feel guilty about being who he was? He savaged the son of Jor-El, reopening old wounds and making new ones. This time, Kal-El would stay dead.

* * *

Then he heard a lone voice cry "Stop!"

Chloe Sullivan.

The beast turned away from the target of its hunt. It looked down at the tiny blonde figure standing between it and its prey. And somewhere deep inside its craggy hide, Davis Bloom stopped screaming.

"Davis, it's okay. I know it's you. It's alright. I trust you." She walked to meet it, her stride never breaking, her breath never quickening. "I know you'll help me, no matter what, and I need your help right now. My life is a lie, and it has been for a long time. Because, I've been lying to myself. About who I am. About who I love. You're the only thing that I know is real and I need you to help me find the truth. I want to stop being someone else's idea of happy, living someone else's dream. You cared about me when I was just me. You didn't hide anything from me. We were just a boy and a girl who made each other happy, remember that? I want to start there. Come back to me. Run, walk, swim, or fly, but be with me."

The beast picked her up in one monstrous hand. His bone spurs cut her, but she ignored them the way she'd ignore the thorns on a rose. He held her up to his face and she saw that his eyes hadn't changed.

"**Chloe…**"

Sirens wailed and lights flashed as a new wave of police reinforcements approached. The beast whirled to meet them, hands turning into fists until one met the warm resistance of Chloe's body. Then, something happened that had been a lifetime in the making. Davis Bloom's lifetime.

A creature engineered solely for destruction made a choice. It chose not to kill.

Instead, it jumped, landing on the roof of a skyscraper with Chloe in its arms. Then it jumped to another building, and another, gathering speed until it jumped and left Clark, Jimmy, Metropolis far behind.

Chloe didn't know where they stopped, but it had mountains. The beast blended into the rock, except for the splotches where dried blood painted it brown. As soon as they landed the beast turned from her, barking oddly, then laid into a boulder until it was so much shale.

Chloe looked at the bone spurs on its fists to find they had decayed, like rotten teeth. They broke off and the nubs retracted under the skin. The beast shrunk, its skin at first too big for it, then tightening into a tanned consistency.

Davis gasped, the last of the spurs still projecting from his skin like compound fractures. He sobbed as they were sucked back inside him, daggers sinking in past the hilt.

Chloe smoothed his wild, fresh-grown hair down. "I've got you. I've got you."

* * *

It took hours for Davis to catch his breath. Sometimes he wept, sometimes he whimpered, sometimes he screamed. The only constant was that Chloe didn't let go of him. At first he shook so hard she wondered if it was a seizure, but with time it faded until it was just a tremor in his hand. She stopped that by taking his hand in hers. For the next few minutes he was still as stone, staring off into the distance. She wondered if he was looking at the setting sun or just pointed in that direction. She watched it anyway.

When it had set, Davis pulled her hand to his face and ran its back along his cheek. She was real. Davis kissed her wrist with parched lips. "You're a piece of a good dream in the middle of this nightmare, you know? We have to go back, don't we. I have to put a stop to this."

"Clark can help. His heart's in the right place. And he's a part of all this craziness."

"Alright. If there's even a chance…" Davis struggled into her coat. "I love you. I'm sorry."

Chloe licked her thumb and wiped away the flecks of blood dotting his face. "I don't want to remember our first kiss as part of all this insanity. But never forget how I feel." She pulled him into a fierce embrace, didn't let go this time until he put his arms around her shoulders and hugged her back.

* * *

Two days of hitchhiking and bus rides later, they were back in Metropolis. The people were walking wounded; skittish, ashen-faced, jumping at shadows. Chloe squeezed Davis's hands as they walked the traumatized streets. There were still windows cracked from the force of blows exchanged miles away. He gave her some privacy as she got in a phone booth, dialed Clark's number.

"Clark, it's Chloe." She took a deep breath. "I remember everything."

She heard the words collapse in his throat. "Chlo… we can talk about that later, where are you?"

"No, let's talk about it now. You stole my memories!"

"They were putting you in danger. You could've been killed helping me!"

"That's my choice! I helped people! My life had meaning!"

"It still does. Jimmy—"

"He doesn't make me happy, Clark! Not like what I had with you."

"Had?"

"Don't act like you value our friendship. You have no idea how angry it makes me just to hear your voice. But I need your help."

"Anything, Chloe."

"It's Davis. Clark, that monster he became, he can't control it. We need your help for that."

* * *

After the fight, Clark had stumbled to Ollie's penthouse, where he'd been treated privately for his injuries. The media had never gotten a clear shot of the red-blue blur, but Clark nodded when he heard Chloe's suggestion to retire his blue shirts and red jacket. And now they were back in Lionel's vaults, poring over all the research Luthor had put together before his death.

"I'm sorry," Davis said suddenly, making Clark look up from his Kryptese translation.

"What was that?"

"I said I'm sorry. For the fight, whatever part I had in it."

Clark looked away from him. "An apology – I suppose it's a start."

"What, you want me to wash your feet?" Davis joked uneasily.

"Maybe send a flower to all the funerals, if you can afford it. God only knows what Chloe was thinking when she--"

Davis lunged for Clark just as Chloe threw herself between them.

"Hey! I don't need someone to fight my battles or protect my honor! I can take care of myself!"

"You tell him, Chlo."

Chloe slapped Clark, then shook her hand. "Okay, that would've worked better if you weren't invincible."

"Want me to try?" Davis asked, half-joke, half-threat.

"Could you just give us a minute?"

Giving Clark one last look, Davis left the room.

Chloe put her hands on her hips. "Alright, Clark, out with it."

"Out with what?"

"We can't solve this if you're blaming Davis for making me 'turn against you' or some other macho—"

"It's not like that!" Clark protested. "You've died, Chloe! I've had to pull you out of morgues because of our friendship!"

"So it was all to protect me?

"Yes!" Clark paced. "I thought now that you had Jimmy, he could take the place of… all this."

"And I'd spend the rest of my life being Suzy Homemaker." She sunk into a chair.

"I thought you'd be happy," Clark said softly. He sat down across from her. "I know I had no right, but I thought it was either that or… or one day I'd lose you."

Chloe wouldn't look anywhere but the ground. "I loved you. I would've done anything for you."

"Have I lost you, Chloe?"

"I don't know." Chloe looked at him, her eyes flat and level. "Sometimes I can't tell if you're the world's savior or its most benevolent dictator."

"So what should I do?" He smiled a bit ruefully. "I missed being able to ask you that."

"Right now, save the day. Worry about tomorrow, tomorrow."

"Then I guess we really only have one option. We have to go to the Fortress. We have to see Jor-El."

* * *

After Chloe stopped talking, Davis stared at her, the only sound the steady growl of the engine and the purchase of the tires on the road. "Wow." Davis blinked. "That's a lot to take in."

He'd suspected a lot of it, and Chloe had hinted at the rest on the journey back to Metropolis, but he hadn't been that curious and hadn't pressured her for Clark's secrets. But hearing the whole thing laid out… Veritas, Krypton, Brainiac… it made him wonder if his head was screwed on right.

"Want me to go over any of it again?" Chloe asked. She was sitting in the backseat with Davis, legs up and feet in his lap. He had a hand across her ankle, thumb absently rubbing the side of her heel.

"No. I trust you." Davis shook his head in resigned belief. "I can't imagine the pillow talk you make."

Chloe blushed a little.

Davis bit his lip, surprised he'd said it.

Clark concentrated very hard on keeping his car on the road. "So Chloe, how'd you get your memory back, anyway?"

Chloe darkened, as if light was suddenly reluctant to touch her. "Once I… admitted the injury, I was able to heal myself."

"Injury?"

Chloe leaned up to the front seat. Her voice was very flat. "You gave me fucking brain damage, Clark."

The rest of the car ride was quiet.

* * *

"We're here," Clark said, parking.

Davis looked at a nearby sign. "The Kawatche caves? Did everyone know about this Krypton stuff but me?"

"We're only here to use the teleporter," Clark told him. "You don't mind being broken down at a molecular level and reassembled in the Arctic Circle, do you?"

"Clark, be nice." Chloe turned to Davis. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to."

"What's the worse that could happen? I die?"

"Yes." Chloe took his hand. "That'd be the worst thing."

She rubbed her arms as they went underground. It'd been a while since she'd been here. Since she'd remembered it. Davis put his jacket over her and that made it a little better.

"Anyone remember the story of Persephone?"

"Kidnapped by Hades," Davis said. "Forced to spend six months in the underworld."

"Forced to spend six months separated from her husband because Demeter wanted to keep her safe," Clark said, his voice echoing.

"Yeah," Chloe said.

Clark pressed the octagon into its receptacle and the chamber opened up.

"It won't hurt," Clark assured Davis.

The light took them.

* * *

"Intruder alert! Intruder alert!" Crystal spikes shot out of the walls, narrowly missing Chloe as they impaled Davis. He didn't cry out, just groaned a little. Chloe made more noise with her hands clapped over her mouth.

"Father, no!" Clark said. "He's a… friend."

"The entity is a class-omega threat. It must be destroyed."

"Let him go, father. You have to trust me."

The spikes retracted and Davis dropped into Chloe's arms. She shielded him from Jor-El with her body while saying to Clark "You and daddy dearest seem chummy."

"Without you, who else should I have relied on?"

Davis still said nothing, instead hugging himself as if ashamed of the way his wounds didn't bleed.

A wall shot up between them, cutting Clark off from Chloe and Davis. "Chloe!" He pounded at the wall, jolting it, before realizing if he _did_ bust through, Chloe would be hit by flying shards. "Father…"

"The Destroyer possesses an unstable genetic matrix. At any moment it could discard its camouflage and attack you—a battle I cannot guarantee you'll survive."

"Is there any way to… stabilize his matrix?" Clark's brow furrowed. It'd been a long time since he'd argued with Jor-El. He didn't like it. "It's not camouflage. It's a person."

"Its programming extends to the genetic level. Removing these traits would trigger the transformation. The only solution is termination."

Through the frosted glass of the wall, Clark could see Davis holding Chloe. "The day I make that choice is the day I go from savior to tyrant. There must be another way."

"The safest option would be to eliminate the Destroyer."

"Every day, Chloe risks her life for me. Are you saying I shouldn't do the same?"

"You are the Traveler. Your life is worth more than hers."

"As long as I think that, I'm not worth a tenth of her. Find another way."

"There is one other way. But it will require… sacrifice."


	3. Chapter 3

Davis let out the breath he'd been holding as the last of his wounds closed up. "Did you mean it?" he asked Chloe suddenly. "You said you loved me, but you don't have to. Not if I'm like this. Not if it makes your life any harder."

Chloe wiped at another bloodstain with a Wetnap from her purse. "I tried safe and easy once. He wound up snapping pictures of a newly-minted orphan. A friend of mine had that happen to her once. I don't think Lana ever got over it…"

"I must be a terrible person to be feeling the way I am about your break-up."

"It's only human. If you saw my diary, you'd be able to track the sparkle-ink usage by what height the Clark-and-Lana-coaster was at."

"He never… saw you like that?"

"No. There was always something in the way."

"If you care, you should move things out of the way." Groaning, Davis laid back. Chloe laid down beside him, arms folded behind her head as Clark's silhouette argued with Jor-El through the silent crystal.

"I thought that's what we were doing."

"Yeah, we are, aren't we?" Davis smiled. "For so long I've felt… doomed. And now here we are. In the Arctic." He rolled onto his side. "Hey, look."

Chloe propped herself up to look over him, planting one arm in front of Davis, her hair brushing against his arm in the kind of casual intimacy he'd never felt with her before.

Outside, the Northern Lights flowed and shimmered like rivers in the sky.

"You've given me hope, Chloe. I don't wanna lose that."

"We won't."

"But if I do, I want to remember this moment as the first time we… the first time I meant it." He shifted onto his back, now lying under her, and Chloe felt his arms wind under hers to end up resting on her back. The arms Chloe was holding herself up with trembled. Davis eased her down onto him, more and more of her body covering his, until the only parts not touching were above the neck.

She stared into his eyes, free of the darkness that'd been clouding them for so long, and felt a hand cup the back of her neck. He was so tentative, so cautious, like a little boy wheedling for a cookie. Then Chloe remembered the passion of the kiss he'd given her in the alley, the passion she'd forced herself not to feel, yet it had pulsed at her core all through the ride home and for most of the night.

She brought herself down on him like a weight finally giving in to gravity. It took a moment for the slow kiss he'd been ready for to become the fiery passion she'd wanted, but then she felt powerful hands at her back and scalp, trying to pull her tighter against him as if that were possible.

Chloe felt the rising heat in his groin and parted her legs, straddling him, undulating against him, making an animalistic noise thunder in his throat. It ended, their lips parting wetly, and Chloe sucked in breath for another (he'd made her fucking _pant_) when she felt his hands lifting her off him. Which probably should have killed the mood, but the way Davis lifted her like a ragdoll… she licked her lips.

"I love you, Chloe Sullivan."

Chloe smiled wickedly and grabbed his wrists. "Show me." She twisted them out of the way, a little pain, and in a moment she was on him again, no, he was rolling on top of her, Chloe's legs clenched around his waist.

The window to the outside slid open, letting in a blast of cold air. Davis rolled off Chloe, sheltering her with his body.

"Jor-El!" Chloe shouted, beyond pissed.

"My apologies. A minor malfunction. Miss Sullivan, you may speak with Clark now. Mr. Bloom, you may wait for them in Smallville."

"Wait, Small…" Davis disappeared in a flash of white light.

Chloe got to her feet. "Jor-El, if you've hurt him, I swear I'll—"

"That will not be necessary. He is back in Smallville, resting comfortably. Clark would like to speak with you now."

The wall came down. Clark stood there, hands in his pockets. "Chloe, are you alright? You look flushed."

"Just worried about Davis," Chloe said, ears burning. "Is there a cure for him?"

"Maybe. But you're not going to like it."

* * *

The hologram of the Destroyer rotated in the air, a cage for the smaller hologram of Davis inside. "Brainiac engineered Davis to be a hybrid," Clark explained. "Think of Davis as a living anchor for the creature, which exists partially in the inexhaustible energy of the Phantom Zone. That's where its mass and strength comes from."

"So just sever the link," Chloe said.

"That would kill Davis Bloom," Jor-El said. "The creature was engineered to grow up alongside Clark and kill him if he refused to become Zod's vessel. Only happenstance prevented this from occurring. Either those loyal to Zod activated Bloom's sleeper programming or it was the unlucky coincidence of meeting Clark, but the Destroyer is becoming more dominant."

"So how do we stop it?"

"We can't break the link, but we can divide it. With the Destroyer halved, it won't be able to override its host personality. Davis could control the changes."

"Great! Sign me up, I'll do it."

Clark glanced at the hologram, then back at her. "It's not that simple. If either of the hosts come into contact with their target, it might be enough to trigger the programming. Chloe… I'm the target."

"Okay, we'll find someone in deepest, darkest Africa who'd never meet Clark in a thousand years…"

Clark's face lapsed into agony as Jor-El spoke. "You were able to control a Brainiac infection for months. Your power can prevent the link from becoming more stable. It must be you, Chloe Sullivan."

"So if I save Davis, I never get to see you again?" Chloe asked Clark.

"You must choose," Jor-El continued.

Chloe turned away, holding herself.

"She already has," Clark said quietly.

"Clark… you're my best friend." Further words failed her.

"I understand. He's the man you love. And he can love you better than I ever could."

Chloe looked at him over her shoulder. "We can still talk. I can help you, just like I do Green Arrow!"

"I just won't be part of your life anymore. Chloe, it's fine. You'll be safe. You'll be happy. That's all I ever wanted."

Chloe nodded, her face screwed up to hold in the tears, then she threw her arms around him and let them out anyway. "I forgive you, you big lunkhead."

Clark hugged her in return. "Feels like I just got you back and now I'm losing you all over again. I wasted so much time trying to be your guardian instead of your friend…"

"It's alright. I forgive you. I love you."

"I love you too."

* * *

Davis listened calmly as Clark explained it, but he'd known since Chloe sat down beside him and Clark across from him.

"We have to hurry," he said. "I can feel it coming back."

They went back to the Fortress. There were two chambers waiting.

"You aren't going to try and talk me out of this?" Chloe asked Davis. "Try to protect me?"

"You're the one who protects me."

They got into the chambers. Clark poked his head into Davis's at the last moment. "Take care of her."

"Til the day I die."

Beyond the rage the beast felt at Clark, Davis felt a certain thankfulness. Clark had tried to keep Chloe safe, tried to be a good friend. He'd made Chloe happy. And now Davis would.

All of a sudden, he realized he didn't want to die.

The world disappeared in soft, welcoming light.

* * *

Lois was getting ready to reheat Chloe's meal for the sixth time when she heard a knock at the door. She wasn't disappointed that it was Clark, but she wasn't too pleased either. "I don't suppose you know where Chloe is."

"She left."

"_Left?_"

"Eloped with Davis, ran off to Edge City, said this place has too many bad memories."

Lois thought of how Chloe had been trying to contain herself the last time Lois had seen her with Davis. Good for her. "I knew that petite frame had some Lane in it."

"Yeah, well… it was her choice. That's what's important."

"And now apparently I have two servings of kolach. Want to have one, save you from myself?"

"Sure." Clark paused in the doorway. "Lois, how do you feel about monster movies?"

"Can't stand 'em."

"Me either."

* * *

Chloe felt a beast nibbling on her arm. "If you don't stop that, I'm going to have to get out of this bed and ravish you."

"Then won't I be sorry." With one last peck, Davis crawled under the sheets with her, standing a pillow up against the headboard and sitting back against it, not yet tired enough to be horizontal. "I love when I come home from a long shift and you're still up."

"Enjoy it while it lasts. Now that I have someone to keep me warm, I'm going right to sleep."

Davis obligingly folded an arm under her, letting Chloe melt against his side. "Maybe I should hold up on fixing the AC another week."

"Maybe I should hire an actual repairman."

"He'd never offer as many services as I do."

"Bet he'd charge less."

It'd been a year since they'd fled Metropolis. Davis had quit his career as an EMT, saying he'd had enough excitement in his life, to become a trauma surgeon. Chloe had gotten a job as a columnist for the Daily Globe. Watchtower and the Isis Foundation were still a part of her life, but just a part. Like Davis, and reporting. Or letters to Clark.

Five months after she'd left, the Red Blue Blur had gotten a new costume and a new name. If Chloe were still in Metropolis, she would have told Clark to wear his underwear on the inside, but she supposed it didn't matter. He looked at Lois now like she used to look at him. Only she didn't look at Clark anymore.

She sometimes thought about what it would be like if Clark had returned her feelings. Not as often as she used to, but sometimes. And she always decided it wouldn't be as nice as the quiet moments she had discovered with Davis, moments of friendship, moments of happiness.

"So, did my hero save any lives today?" she teased.

"Two," Davis said, too quick. Because it wasn't like it was his ego that made him keep track.

Chloe laid her head down on Davis's chest, feeling it rise and fall, his heart sending tremors into her jawbone. She'd felt him lose himself in her enough times to know when he was free and when he was holding something back. It always made his muscles tense, like he had to be ready to fight something down.

She let her breath stir his chest hair three times before saying "Then why are you acting like someone died?"

"Because someone did die, Chloe. A lot of someones."

Chloe could feel him stiffening into a statue, like he was ready to push her away. She wrapped her arms around him and rose up to look him in the eye. "And how many people do you have to save before you stop blaming yourself? Double the people who died on Doomsday? Triple? I'd just like to know so I can plan when I have my husband back."

"I'm sorry if I haven't been a good husband," Davis began, his voice so fragile Chloe thought it would crack if he had to go on.

"You have been…"

"But this is just something I'll have to live with," he said over her. "For months, I blocked it out, but then they brought in a hit and run. High school student. He was all smashed up and I could barely operate on him. All I could think was that he could have been one of mine."

Chloe kissed him, knowing he wouldn't, couldn't respond. She kissed his lips and cheek and forehead and lips again, as if she could infuse him with sheer love. "I wish I could've taken your pain along with the Beast. But since I can't, could you do me a favor?"

"Anything."

"Add another name to your list. Mine. Because you saved my life, Davis. I'll always love you for that. Even if I wish you would believe redemption was possible."

"I believe." He finally put his arms around her, guiding her back down onto his chest where he could nestle her body against his, petting her hair like it was spun gold. "You're my redemption, Chloe. The agent of it, the proof of it, the fact of it… but that's not why I love you."

"Then why?"

"Haven't you figured it out by now?"

"Yes. But I like hearing you say it."

He brushed the hair away from her ear, tilted his head down, and whispered the reasons he loved her until he was drifting asleep, beyond the reach of nightmares.


End file.
